Can Badgers Look Worried?
by sifting-truths
Summary: In which Stephanie Brown receives a visitor at the hospital and occasionally loses track of time inner-monologuing to herself.


There's someone in Stephanie's room and _god_ does she hope it's not more ninjas.

Thankfully, when she cracks her eyes it's to find Damian Wayne-who kinda _is_ a ninja, she thinks hazily-staring in her general direction from across the room with his hands shoved in his pockets.

The very small part of her that's not touched is a bit worried that the second visitor she's had (if you don't count her mom and honestly you shouldn't because her mom works here and _is her mom_) is someone who threatens her with any number of things on a regular basis.

She needs to work on her social life.

"Hey," she croaks. Or hopes she does, at least, because words just don't come out right when your lips are stuck together and your mouth tastes like sandpaper and... sand... _dry things, _okay?

He looks at her sharply and for a moment she's not really sure what his face is doing because she doesn't know whether badgers can do sympathy or worry, but he rolls his eyes and yes, there's the Damian she knows. She thinks he looks at the water next to her bed for half a second before looking back at her and takes comfort in the fact that the kid is trying (her mouth still feels like a desert, but the kid is trying).

"You're an idiot." He says simply, stopping next to her bed and shoving his hands back in his pockets.

Considering it was in no way her fault she was jumped by ninjas, she tells herself that's Damian-talk for "I would prefer you not die," which is the Wayne equivalent of "I was worried about you." Oh, those wacky Waynes and their emotional constipation.

"Aw, careful, that's almost starting to sound affectionate."

He harumphs and she gives him her best Brown smile. Which hurts a little bit, what with the dry lips which, now that she thinks about it, were already busted._ A new meaning to cracking a smile_, she thinks and _wow _does she need a life that doesn't involve thinking stupid things while lying in hospital beds.

Or fewer painkillers.

No, she feels like she's been hit by a bus already. (Or, you know, lots of ninjas.) More painkillers?

She internal monologues about painkillers and ninjas and how goddamned itchy she remembers casts being for another minute when she remembers (_yeah, maybe fewer painkillers_) there's this cute kid who's trying to person properly next to her. He at least doesn't seem to notice-or maybe care, because he's Damian and he seems to notice a lot of things-which also points to her internal monologue remaining internal. Not that she actually has a problem with that. Why does everyone think she has a problem with that? A stunning ninety percent of what she does, she does on purpose. Maybe even ninety-five.

Except for getting the crap kicked out of her by ninjas, that-

He clears his throat and, yes, definitely fewer painkillers. What was she even _on? _

Damian is totally capable of being chatty in his own evil way, though, so she's a bit insulted she's expected to hold up the conversation in this particular situation. Which is when she swears he mumbles something about being sorry.

Which, ok, they were definitely League and she definitely could have used the back-up waaay earlier, but-

"Aw, it ain't nothing to worry your pretty little head over," and _god_ that glare is priceless. "Just don't ask me to quit, 'kay?"

(That last part just tumbles out on its own, but isn't _that _a great idea. She makes a mental note to count the hours before Tim comes in with some flowers and some 'Stephanie, maybe you shouldn't be doing this.')

He makes that face that says she isn't making any sense and then rolls his eyes. "If you have a death-wish, I see no reason to intervene."

"I know," she says and means it, because who else in the batfamily hasn't told her to quit at least once? Well, except for his general 'you're incompetent and ruin everything' tirades which, ok, sound just like everything else she hears, but hold a lot less weight. She's pretty sure he doesn't mean it the same way the others do.

He just complains the way most people breathe.

That confused look-if Damian would ever lower himself to confusion-is back, but she just smiles up at him.

"Y'know, Cass had the decency to bring a card. I mean, if you're going to visit someone in the hospital, you either bring a card or you have to be social. So," She can practically see him going over the exits in his head. "Do something for me?"

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

Her eyes dart to the table and he stares at her with the level of indignation that only he could pull off at his age while wearing a hoodie that looks like it was stolen from Dick.

. . .

"This movie is stupid," he finally declares, all of ten minutes in.

"I _know_," she says and he looks at her like no person should ever sound so happy about that, which just makes her smile more.

He spends the next hour and a half nitpicking every detail, line and character choice, and it's almost as fun as the movie itself. Steph maybe drifts off a few times, but he's still there, ranting, whenever she opens her eyes, so she calls it a win.

When the credits roll, he stands up and hesitates as if wondering about proper social protocol, but seems to pretty quickly remember Damian Wayne is above social protocol and just turns to leave.

"Tell Alfred I expect some sort of batcookie care package to be waiting for me when I get home."

He gives her his 'you're insufferable and have terrible taste' look and turns to leave. "Noted."

She figures if there's hope for Damian Wayne, there's hope for Gotham.


End file.
